


The Bitter Bard Who Fell Hard

by ag3nta



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ciri ships it, Jaskier is sad, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, and petty, deep down, definitely petty, geralt is a softie, under the leather and hotness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23489164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ag3nta/pseuds/ag3nta
Summary: Jaskier didnotmiss Geralt and Geralt didnotmiss Jaskier.Both of them are wrong.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 259





	The Bitter Bard Who Fell Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have a lot of feels after their argument? Yes. Did I want to see them make up? Definitely. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Aren’t ye the bard who helped the Witcher?”

Jaskier snorted. It had officially been five days, seven hours, and twenty-seven minutes since he had last seen Geralt or let alone heard from him, not that Jaskier was keeping track of course. He could barely keep track of the amounts of ale he drank-he believed it was about eight at this point-let alone the last time he saw Geralt.

Days have been occupied with hearing local tales of whatever new monster or myth was floating around, tuning and retuning his lute, and drinking unhealthy amounts of ale to fill the ache in Jaskier’s chest. 

No amount of ale was enough, it seemed, since every second Jaskier felt as though he was reminded of Geralt. Every time he smelled the wretched stench of an onion, he would think of Geralt. Hearing the howling of the wolves in the night would cause him to remember how Geralt was known as the White Wolf, and Jaskier would find himself staring out into the night wondering where Geralt would be. Even seeing a glimpse of white hair sent an infamous reminder of Geralt’s last words to him: 

_If life could give me one blessing, it would be to get you off my hands._

They should not have hurt as much as they did. It was _stupid_ those words cut through his heart like a dagger. Who cared what Geralt thought anyway, huh? He was just...a Witcher. Nothing more, nothing less. Why did Jaskier care?

“You could say that,” Jaskier finally answered the man who looked like he hadn’t bathed in a month and spent his days in the pub. Maybe he was being a tad hypocritical since Jaskier himself hadn’t left the spot he was currently sitting at for hours. He was in great need of a bath as well but Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Well! What was he like?” The man flashed a toothless smile and Jaskier shrugged, staring down into the bottom of his cup and sipping down the remnants of what was left of his ale.  
“Is he as strong as they say? Invincible? Did he-”

“He’s a bit of a dick if you ask me,” Jaskier muttered against his cup, his voice echoing slightly through the steel mug. 

“Then don’t.”

Jaskier froze. His throat tightened immediately and his heart sank like an anchor in the ocean that was his stomach as he instantly recognized that voice. The deep, gravel tone which belonged to the infamous Witcher, the tone Jaskier had grown to pick out amongst everyone else’s. He hated it, of course he hated it, but what he hated more was the fact that Geralt was _here_. Why was he here?

The man stepped away, possibly out of fear from whatever threatening look Geralt had on his face. Jaskier didn’t look up to meet those amber eyes that reminded him of the sun, he didn’t look up at all to acknowledge the Witcher now sitting across from him. 

“I need your help.”

Oh that made Jaskier laugh, but he refrained from doing so since if he laughed, he knew he would choke. He wouldn’t give Geralt the satisfaction his words hurt him. Jaskier could be just as cold as Geralt, and he would prove it too. 

“And why would I ever help you?” Jaskier set his cup down and the clank it made against the table hurt his head slightly, but he ignored the feeling. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Jaskier lifted his eyes up and as much as he would’ve taken the time to focus his gaze on Geralt, take note of every detail of his face, he couldn’t help but notice the girl next to him. She was fourteen at most, had a soft face and beautiful golden hair. She looked sweet and kind, everything Geralt was not.

“Do yourself a favor and stay far away from him. That is unless you want to be faced with disappointment-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt huffed and was hearing his name come out of his mouth supposed to sting? Was it supposed to make his eyes water? “It’s Yennefer,” Geralt went on and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“Of course it is,” he muttered under his breath. Why would Jaskier ever believe Geralt was coming to him for him? He would be a fool to believe so, but Jaskier was no fool. Of course Geralt only needed him when he saw fit. “Whatever she’s done this time, I want no part of it.”

Geralt’s face was hard and cold but his eyes, those eyes pierced into Jaskier like they were seeing through his soul. “She’s missing.”

“And you want to go look for her,” Geralt gave a slight nod of his head and Jaskier swallowed down the lump in his throat. He needed more ale to wash it down. “Well you’re a...determined man so I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding her but if you’ll excuse me I have somewhere to be,” Jaskier pushed himself up but stumbled slightly.

Everything happened so quickly. 

One second, Jaskier was standing up, ready to walk away from the table, but then suddenly Geralt’s hand was fisted into the front of Jaskier’s shirt. Geralt yanked Jaskier closer and Jaskier did his best to push his hand away but Geralt was much stronger than him, as usual.

Jaskier casted his eyes down quickly but realized that was a sign of weakness. Instead, he met Geralt’s eyes and did his best to glare through his tears, not that Geralt would care or anything. He was probably too emotionally dense to tell Jaskier was upset anyway. 

“She saved your life,” Geralt reminded him and Jaskier scoffed, “the least you could do is-”

“Nothing,” Jaskier finished for him. “I don’t owe Yennefer anything and I sure as Hell don’t owe you anything. You made it very clear you don’t need me, Geralt,” he spat, “and I surely don’t need you.” Jaskier found his strength and pushed Geralt’s arm off of him. He smoothed down his shirt and did his best to regain his composure. 

Geralt was seething and Jaskier knew he was pissing the Witcher off as he tended to do. “Jaskier,” he started again slowly, “I’m sor-”

“Sorry? I didn’t know that word was even in your vocabulary,” Jaskier said with amusement, managing an attempt to look smug. 

“Why you-”

“Enough!” The girl nearly yelled, drawing some unwanted attention towards the three of them. Geralt retreated and whoever this girl was, she had some sort of control over Geralt Jaskier had never seen before. The girl focused her eyes on Jaskier, her blue eyes softening as she met his. “I’m Ciri,” she introduced.

“Jaskier,” he replied and his gaze shifted between the two. He wondered why Ciri, a literal child who looked way too pure and innocent, was around Geralt. “It was nice meeting you Ciri, but really I must go,” he picked his lute case up and slung it over his shoulder. Although he hadn’t played it in awhile, it felt weird not carrying it around with him. 

“You’re more enjoyable when you’re sober anyway,” Geralt added in before Jaskier could fully walk away.

That one hurt and Jaskier wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t either. “Ah yes, because you _so_ enjoyed my company when you wished for a blessing to _take me off your hands_ ,” he snarled at him. 

Geralt didn’t say anything or let alone look fazed by Jaskier’s words. All the signs he did not care. 

“Goodbye Geralt. Look for your sorceress wench on your own.”

Jaskier got the last word and that was what mattered; it seemed that was all that mattered to him really. He found no pleasure in anything else, but sticking it to Geralt felt good in a way. Jaskier still didn’t feel _that_ great, but he felt slightly better than he did before which was something. 

He stumbled his way to the small room he paid for with at least a week’s worth of money. The room wasn’t much; it contained a bed which was a bit too hard for Jaskier’s taste but it would suffice. The room also had a steel tub Jaskier had yet to use. Perhaps he would take a bath in the morning and not drink his day away tomorrow, again. He always told himself he would do the opposite of his now habitual routine and yet Jaskier found himself falling into his old habits whenever the sun merely peaked over the horizon.

The sun was evil. Jaskier used to love the sun, don’t get him wrong, but lately the sun had reminded him of Geralt’s eyes and staring into the sun hurt a lot before but now it was almost gut wrenching. Jaskier thought he would find relief in the night time, but the moon’s bright glow reminded Jaskier more of Geralt. Everything reminded him of Geralt and it was killing him. The ironic part of this all was Geralt didn’t even realize he was impacting Jaskier like this; he was too emotionally withdrawn to even acknowledge his own feelings let alone someone else’s.

That was an incorrect statement. Geralt wasn’t completely emotionally withdrawn since he did feel some emotion. Anger, always anger, lust and that lust was directed towards Yennefer. Jaskier would theorize Geralt was in love with her, but he didn’t think he was capable of feeling love. Even if he did, he wouldn’t feel it towards Jaskier and that was something Jaskier would have to live with, as painful as it may be.

He sighed heavily to himself as he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the slate ceiling through a vision of tears. Damn Geralt. Jaskier took a deep breath and collected himself. He was done being upset over this. He was done with Geralt, for good.

Mindlessly, he picked up his lute. It felt foregin in his arms but maybe his alcoholic state was the contribution to said feeling. Regardless, Jaskier took his time tuning his instrument and plucked a couple strings, but no melody came to him.

With his voice rough and hoarse, he slowly began to sing:

_Is there nothing good in me?_

_Is there nothing good in me?_

_I’ve let me down, down, down, down._

_I’ve let me down, down, down, down._

Jaskier barely recognized his own voice in that moment, but he continued on. He was broken and he knew he would have to pick up the pieces of himself back up and find a way to glue them back together.

_But look at me, oh what a mess._

_I get caught up in the things that matter the least._

_Oh let me have release._

His fingers stopped strumming the same two chords, which did not go well together at all, before his mind even realized he had stopped. There was an unbearable pain in his chest and Jaskier wasn’t sure if his heart was beating anymore and deep down, he knew it would be best if it did not. He set his lute down beside him and closed his eyes. Maybe if he fell asleep tonight he would never wake up. 

Yet Jaskier awoke. 

The sun was out and shined brightly and annoyingly into his eyes. His head was pounding, reminding him of last night’s drinking and encounter with Geralt. Some part of Jaskier thought it was a dream, a nightmare really, but the ache in his chest happily reminded him it was in fact real.

Jaskier sluggishly made his way out of bed and nearly glared at the tub. He did not have the motivation to take a bath, but if he were to admit it to himself, he did smell a bit...unclean. Jaskier hated being unkempt too so he grudgingly started up his bath which was a process in itself.

The first thing he had to do was get water from the innkeeper who apparently had no staff to get the water for Jaskier so he had to do that himself which he was not used to. Jaskier was _not_ snobbish or anything, but he was used to nicer places; he was too...haggard and broken to care where he was staying in the first place. He just needed a bed and somewhere to cry in peace. He hated to admit he cried over Geralt since Jaskier had never, ever cried over anyone in his whole life! Especially a Witcher. And he hated it. Every tear he shed Geralt did not deserve since Geralt did not care so why should Jaskier care?

He should not, that was the simple answer, but it was a hard answer for Jaskier to accept since he cared. He cared more than he should and he hated it.

His bath water was cooling the more time Jaskier had spent in his thoughts. He shook his head at himself and carried on with his bath, making about three trips before his tub was filled high enough for his liking.

The water was tepid but Jaskier enjoyed it nonetheless. It felt good, refreshing to bathe. He felt as though he was washing off all his stress and heartache and it felt good. Really good.

Once he was completely clean and changed into some fresh clothes, he headed out. Today was a beautiful day and the sun that annoyed Jaskier minutes ago now warmed up his face as he walked about the streets. 

Jaskier went up to some of the vendors scattered about, deciding if he should get some fruit for breakfast or bread, or both. He dug in his pocket to see he could afford both and then some, but he also needed to be smart with his money since he didn’t have a generating income at the moment.

“Three apples please,” he heard beside him and Jaskier glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Ciri was next to him. He took a deep breath and felt a pit form in his stomach, knowing Geralt was probably nearby. All the more reason for Jaskier to hurry up and decide what to get so he could get out of this town and avoid Geralt for hopefully forever.

Jaskier cleared his throat and handed the vendor four coins. “Make that four,” he sent Ciri a warm smile which she quickly returned. Jaskier could be mad at Geralt all he wanted, but he had nothing against Ciri at all, but he didn’t agree with her decision in choosing to be around Geralt but that was none of his business. 

The vendor took the coins and Jaskier took four apples, handing three of them to Ciri and wiping his own on his jacket before taking a bite. “Geralt is looking for you,” she informed him and Jaskier felt the bite of apple he just took get stuck in his throat. “He also said you’re being a stubborn as-”

“What did I say about swearing?” Geralt’s voice was heard and Jaskier knew he was at least a couple of feet behind him, if not less. 

“An ass is an animal,” Ciri pointed out as she tossed Geralt an apple which he swiftly caught, “and a hole is something in the ground, or a tear in a piece of fabric,” she went on, trying to justify her use of vulgarity. “Besides, I’m only repeating what you said.”

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” Geralt muttered and Jaskier swallowed the piece of apple stuck in his throat. He knew he was trapped in this conversation since if he turned around, he would have to get around Geralt and get out of talking to him which was nearly impossible. “Jaskier,” Geralt addressed him before he could make the decision himself.

Jaskier turned around, slowly. He ignored his sudden wave of anxiety and straightened his stance, knowing he could stand his own ground and face whatever Geralt threw at him.

“Yes?” Geralt stared at him blankly and Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I can’t read minds Geralt. Whatever it is, spit it out so I can get on with my day.”

Geralt clenched his jaw and closed his eyes briefly. It looked like he was having an internal war with himself and Jaskier wanted to know very badly why, but at the moment, he had to pretend like he didn’t care.

“I,” Geralt glanced at Ciri then back at Jaskier, “I am sorry.”

Wow, how painful for him to say.

“About?” Jaskier pressed slightly and Geralt huffed, looking like he wanted to punch him. “Please do be specific since I have a whole list-”

“You know what,” Geralt hissed, “what I said to you on the mountain. I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked him up and down, taking another bite out of his apple. “That was very aggressive,” he mentioned in passing, eating more of his breakfast.

“Do you accept it or not?” Geralt looked like he was on the verge of losing his shit and Jaskier felt some pride in that.

Jaskier chewed and swallowed. “No, I do not.”

“Jaskier.”

“What?” Jaskier asked innocently. “I gave you an honest answer, Geralt. You’re only apologizing because you want my help with Yennefer and honestly, I don’t see why you need me to be there. You never did before so why now?” Geralt glared at him and Jaskier merely blinked. “Well?”

Geralt’s hands clenched into fists, breaking the apple in his hand. Jaskier heard Ciri mumble something about being grateful she bought an extra, but his attention remained on Geralt. Waiting.

“It’s...quiet,” Geralt finally gritted out.

“I see,” Jaskier hummed, feeling an odd warm feeling in his chest but it wasn’t enough to combat the emptiness he still had. Geralt couldn’t possibly miss him, could he? No, Jaskier was just getting his hopes up, per usual.

“Ciri needs company.”

Jaskier laughed faintly. “Does she now?” Geralt gave a small nod and Jaskier turned to Ciri. “I would love to accompany you but I am no babysitter,” he turned back to Geralt and said.

“I need someone to be with her, just in case.”

“I know how to make flower crowns,” Ciri chimed in and Jaskier turned back to her and smiled. How could he say no?

***

Geralt rolled his eyes as he watched Jaskier and Ciri giggle endlessly in front of him. It had been about six hours of travel and the two of them had not stopped talking in that span of time either.

Traveling with Ciri was much different than with Jaskier. She talked a lot, but she would mainly ask Geralt questions about what was happening while she was off elsewhere. She told him about her rough journey, from the moment she fled the castle all the way up to their encounter in the woods.

She was pleasant company, Roach liked her too, but she wasn’t Jaskier. 

Seeing Jaskier again...Geralt had a lot to say yet found himself speechless. He didn’t know where to begin or what to tell him either. So Geralt settled on his usual silence, but he could not help but notice how _different_ Jaskier seemed. 

His eyes usually had a gleam to them, a light that could never be dulled, a light only Jaskier possessed. The light in his eyes was gone and it was all Geralt’s fault. All of this was Geralt’s fault.

He did not need anyone, he knew that, but he found himself _missing_ Jaskier. He missed his endlessly rambling, his attempts to get Geralt to speak more than three words to him, his lute playing which Geralt compared to a pie with no filling but that was Geralt’s favorite kind of pie. 

Geralt stared at him longingly from the seven foot distance between them. He wondered if he stared long enough, Jaskier would catch his gaze and hold it longer than two seconds. 

But no, Jaskier refused to even speak to him. In all honesty, Geralt truly didn’t blame him either. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and the look on Jaskier’s face afterwards spoke enough in itself. Geralt had never seen Jaskier so hurt before and he never wanted to see that look on his face ever again. Geralt wanted to punch himself for making him feel that way in the first place. 

His apology wasn’t the greatest, at all, Geralt will admit that, but a small part of him was hoping Jaskier would easily forgive him and they could move on. This wasn’t the case, obviously.

Jaskier would not forgive Geralt easily and that was fine, Geralt could wait. Patience wasn’t his strong suit but it didn’t hurt to try, right? 

Besides, hearing Jaskier’s voice, his laugh, was enough to fill the void inside Geralt he didn’t even know he had. 

“Geralt,” Ciri called out to him and Geralt blinked out of the trance he was in and took his eyes off of Jaskier before he noticed. He didn’t. “Should we start looking for a place to camp for the night?”

Personally, Geralt could go at least another two more hours but he knew he wasn’t traveling alone anymore. 

“Sure,” he replied and Ciri flashed him a small smile before returning back to her conversation with Jaskier. 

“Will you sing me a song tonight?” Ciri asked him sweetly and Jaskier laughed, making Geralt’s gut twist in an odd way. 

“I don’t have any...new material. Well I do but it’s not uh...kid friendly?” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed and Geralt scrunched his eyebrows together, curious. 

Ciri huffed. “I’d say I’m very mature for my age.”

“Yes you are, but the song is a bit depressing and not the best-”

“Just sing the song, Jaskier,” Geralt told him flatly, masking his want of hearing Jaskier sing.

Jaskier had an amazing voice and it was something Geralt would never get tired of hearing. He found solace in his singing and Geralt didn’t realize how much he missed it until the silence built around him and reminded him of Jaskier’s absence. 

His eyes met Geralt’s briefly as Jaskier sucked in his lower lip as if he was shy. Timidness was something Geralt didn’t even associate with Jaskier since he was far from shy. He wondered why the sudden change but perhaps that was Geralt’s fault too in some way. 

“If you insist,” Jaskier agreed and spoke his words mainly to Ciri. “It came to me last night and it is still in the works but, I will play it for you, especially since you asked so kindly,” he beamed at Ciri. 

Geralt watched him closely as Jaskier slid his case about halfway down his arm and pulled his lute out. He tuned it for about a couple of minutes before he started to play a rather...rough melody Geralt was not familiar with. 

_Heaven talks but not to me._

_Cause Heaven knows that nothing good comes free._

Geralt came to a halt. 

_Desolation tragedy._

_Is there nothing good in me?_

_Is there nothing good in me?_

Roach nudged him and Geralt stumbled slightly over his feet before he continued on walking. 

Jaskier had stopped playing and Ciri applauded him. “You have an amazing voice,” she complimented and Jaskier gave her a courtesy. 

“Why thank you m’lady.”

“Will you sing it again for me? Before bed?”

“Anything for you, my Princess.”

“How do you know she’s a princess?” Geralt asked and Jaskier ignored the question as he preoccupied himself with putting his lute away.

“I told him,” Ciri replied for him and Geralt gave her a displeased look. “What? I can trust him since he is your friend-”

“We’re not friends,” Geralt and, to his surprise, Jaskier said in unison. Their eyes met briefly before Jaskier shifted his back to the trail in front of him and Geralt pointed his to the ground. 

“Well regardless,” Ciri went on, ignoring the sudden awkwardness, “I trust Jaskier.”

“Very much appreciated,” Jaskier thanked her and Geralt rolled his eyes again, not that he could see.

They walked for about another hour until they stumbled upon a cave. Geralt, of course, had to be the one to scope it out, making sure it was truly empty. To their luck, it was and they all settled.

Well, Jaskier and Ciri settled while Geralt went out to get some firewood and search for some sort of food for the night. Geralt had stalked up on bread and fruit the night before but he thought they would need something more substantial than what he had. 

Geralt didn’t mind being the one to go out and find their food and firewood. He preferred it this way honestly since he knew Jaskier and Ciri were safe and most importantly, Ciri was safe with Jaskier too.

Neither of them knew the real reason why Geralt wanted to help Yennefer and he wasn’t sure what to say when they would ask either. He was surprised Jaskier didn’t ask him yet, but in order for him to ask he needed to talk to Geralt first and that was not happening any time soon. 

He sighed heavily to himself as he collected as many branches and logs of wood he could find. Geralt didn’t have any success in the food department but he was not hungry in the slightest. Maybe he will have more luck tomorrow.

Geralt returned to the cave and stopped himself short of the entrance, noticing Jaskier and Ciri were in the middle of a conversation.

“...why him?” Jaskier asked, his tone curious yet Geralt had a feeling he was masking his anger. 

“Destiny,” Ciri said as if it was obvious. “We all have one.”

Jaskier snorted. “I do not. No, not me.” 

“Sure you do. Geralt is your destiny.”

Geralt bit down on his tongue as he waited for Jaskier’s response since a silence had built. He heard Jaskier sigh and let out a faint laugh.

“Geralt wants nothing to do with me.”

“So you say,” Ciri practically sang and Geralt sucked in a breath. “How come you two are not friends but you came along?”

Another sigh. 

“I enjoy your company.”

“You don’t know me.”

Jaskier hummed. “I know you know how to make flower crowns.” 

“You’re doing it for Geralt,” Ciri stated rather than posting it as a question.

“I absolutely am not! You-You’re too observant for someone your age, you know that?” Jaskier huffed and tried his best to dodge the question but it was Jaskier. 

“So I’m right?”

“I am not-” Geralt made himself known then and Jaskier immediately shut his mouth. His cheeks puffed and turned the slightest shade of pink which looked absolutely adorable-

Geralt quickly shook away that thought and set the firewood down in between them. He immediately started a fire and as he did so, Jaskier muttered something about needing air and walked out. 

“I like him,” Ciri mentioned randomly and Geralt stared into the fire, not sure how to respond to that. He _liked_ Jaskier too, but he knew if he said it Ciri would get the wrong idea. Perhaps she was getting the right idea and Geralt was simply ignoring it. “Why did you want him to come along?”

“I didn’t.”

Ciri scooted closer to him, close enough where she rested her head against his shoulder and stared into the fire with him. “You miss him,” she whispered, “I won’t tell.”

Geralt turned his head slightly to look at her. “There’s nothing for you to tell him,” he muttered and Ciri nudged him. 

“So you stare at him why?” 

Jaskier was right, she knew too much for her age. 

“I couldn’t find dinner,” Geralt brought up in order to shift the topic away from Jaskier. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Ciri shrugged. “That’s alright. Now back to-”

“It’s getting late.”

Ciri huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know you would be giving me a bedtime,” she shot him a look and Geralt matched it. “May I at least hear one story for Jaskier before I go to bed?”

“If it’s appropriate,” Geralt agreed. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Geralt could think of a million reasons why it wouldn’t be since he knew what Jaskier was like, but he only shrugged and Ciri dropped it.

A few minutes later, Jaskier returned from his moment outside and Ciri immediately went to his side. She settled down near the fire and Jaskier began telling her a tale Geralt was _not_ listening too as well.

“Once upon a time,” Jaskier began and laughed. “Why are you making a sour face?”

“I want a real story,” Ciri demanded. 

“Alright,” Jaskier cleared his throat. “Real story, real story,” he said to himself. “Did you know dragons are real? Well, I didn’t until Geralt and I-”

“I thought you weren’t friends,” Ciri said smugly and Geralt glanced at the two of them briefly before turning his gaze back to the fire. 

“We aren’t. But there was money involved and you know, everyone loves money,” Jaskier went on. “This man propositioned us and we were traveling with these other men and Yennefer. I take it Geralt had told you about her?”

“Not really. He mainly talks about you.” Geralt cursed to himself and knew he should have never talked about Jaskier as much as he did to Ciri. Which wasn’t a lot, in all honesty. He only talked about Jaskier when it was necessary which did happen to be a lot now that he thought about it…

“Well as I was saying,” Jaskier went on, ignoring the comment, “we went on the longest walk ever and then we were told about a shortcut and boy,” he made an exasperated sigh, “it was probably the scariest thing I have ever been on. Walking on planks along the side of a mountain,” he shivered, “not the most fun thing to do, let me tell you.”

Geralt remembered that day. His only concern was Jaskier and how he wasn’t sure what to do if he fell. Hell, Geralt probably would’ve jumped to catch him. 

“We made it across the mountain, only losing three people which is not bad considering the circumstances,” Jaskier continued, “and camp for the night. Then in the morning, I woke up alone with my lute and the camp was deserted. So, I went searching and then the people I thought were dead were not dead and one of them was actually a dragon. Crazy, right?”

“Very. Then what?”

“Oh then Geralt had a falling out with Yennefer, she left, and then he told me-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt called out warningly, turning his body away from the fire and towards them both. Jaskier locked eyes with him and Geralt narrowed his eyes slightly, giving him a silent sign to not continue on with what he was about to say.

Ciri looked back and forth between the two of them, looking like she was about to say something but was refraining from doing so. 

“Excuse me,” Jaskier muttered and left the cave yet again, but this time, Geralt got up and went right after him. 

The moon was already out and stars were scattered across the sky. Geralt didn’t even realize how late it was and did not remember time going by so fast either. 

Jaskier was walking fast but Geralt moved quicker. He managed to get in front of Jaskier and halt him in his steps. Jaskier looked displeased and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Geralt. Although it was dark, Geralt could still see his eyes shine bright. 

“What?” Jaskier spat, trying to contain himself but Geralt knew his composure was going to crack. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why did you want me to come along?” 

“I didn’t think you’d agree.”

Jaskier looked up at the sky and shook his head. “Neither did I,” he admitted in a mutter and then the two of them went quiet.

Geralt took a deep breath. He could do this.

“Jaskier,” he began slowly, “I _need_ to find Yennefer.”

“Of course you do. You know Geralt, since we’re not friends I can be honest and tell you how she-”

“I need to find her for you.”

Jaskier shut his mouth, then opened it again, shut it, then spoke. “Come again?”

“Yennefer saved you in a way I never could,” Geralt took a small step forward, “I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t save you,” he confessed, “if I lost you.”

Jaskier met his eyes and took in a shaky breath. “You’re the most complicated man I have ever met, you know that? You claim we’re not friends and yet you keep me around, then you compare my singing to a pie with no filling which yes, I still think about, and not to mention you _also_ pushed me away-”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that three times already, four if you count your attempt at an apology.”

Geralt took another breath. “I mean it. I’m sorry, Jaskier.” Jaskier nodded and Geralt took another step closer. 

“Well, I can tell you right now that you do not need to find Yennefer since I am done, _done_ with anything magic related. You can go look for her if you want,” Jaskier added on, “but you don’t need to go find her for me because I do not plan to be in harm’s way so no need to be concerned there.”

Geralt nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“Please do not tell me after all this time you actually _cared_.”

“I would be lying to say I didn’t.”

Jaskier barked out a very forced laugh. “Maybe Ciri was right, perhaps you are my destiny. My destiny towards pain and misery and everything I desire but can never have.” Jaskier shut his mouth quickly, realizing what he said.

Geralt cocked an eyebrow. “That’s not how it works.”

“Oh so are you some-some expert now? Huh?” Jaskier placed his hands on his hips, waiting. “You were running from yours for a while and you didn’t even mention Ciri to me once and why didn’t you tell me you had a kid, huh?”

“She’s not-Never mind,” Geralt didn’t bother correcting him at the moment. “I’m done running, Jaskier.”

Another step forward. 

“Oh are you now?” Geralt nodded. 

“I like the crust.”

“What?”

“The pie crust.”

Jaskier looked confused. “Why are you talking about-Oh,” he blinked as Geralt walked even closer. “Crust is...bland, dull.”

“It holds the pie together. A pie is not a pie without the crust.”

“If this is your way of telling me you actually do like my singing-”

“I missed you. Your singing, your endless...talking,” Geralt went on before Jaskier could ramble further. “I missed you, Jaskier.”

“Roach too?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, playfully this time. “Sure.”

“If this is your way of saying your sorry, then I do not accept.”

“And why not?”

Jaskier shrugged. “Because I believe you can do a little bit better than that, Geralt. Try again. Go on,” he urged and Geralt sighed. 

“Forgive me.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Try again.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

That was fair. 

Geralt closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him close. Jaskier seemed a bit shocked by the sudden contact but he melted almost instantly. 

“Forgive me,” Geralt tried again, staring down into those beautiful eyes of his, eyes he could look at forever. “I love you.”

Jaskier went quiet, but Geralt knew he was trying to fight off a smile. 

“Shit Geralt, when you say something like that I have to forgive you.” 

“No one says you have to-”

“God you’re an idiot,” Jaskier muttered and he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss but Geralt pulled back, but not away. “Oh do not tell me Witcher’s do not kiss humans-”

“I’m not an idiot, Jaskier.”

Jaskier smirked. “Oh really? Then what would you call it? Emotionally dense?”

Geralt rolled his eyes and kissed him to shut him up. Okay and maybe he kissed him because Geralt wanted to kiss Jaskier for days now, but it was mainly to get him to stop talking too. Jaskier eagerly kissed him back before pulling away, looking smug. 

“So...you love me?”

Geralt, again, rolled his eyes and he thought if he rolled them one more time they would roll away from him. “Yes.” 

“Lucky for you, Geralt of Rivia, I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Song Jaskier is singing is Release by Imagine Dragons. It came on when I was writing, paused it, and was like “THIS IS A GERASKIER SONG” and yeah hence why it’s in this fic.
> 
> Will I be writing more for these two? You can count on it!! I already have some modern AUs planned...
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @amcsummersgoddess!!


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